


Dean Winchester, Private Investigator

by Angel_in_Your_Arms



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 11:03:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12529872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angel_in_Your_Arms/pseuds/Angel_in_Your_Arms
Summary: Dean Winchester takes a position as security consultant to world famous novelist, Gabriel Milton. The only problem is Gabriel's right hand man, Castiel Novak.





	Dean Winchester, Private Investigator

**Author's Note:**

> This is a stand alone story for the collection Destiel Promptober 2017.
> 
> If the theme of this seems familiar to you, you are not mistaken.

Promptober day 27 - Climb

 

“You want me to wait to make sure you can get in,” Sam asked Dean as he pulled up to the entrance to the estate knowing that one of the things that Castiel Novak liked to do to get under his brother’s skin was to change the security code for the keypad that opened the front gate. Doing that meant Dean would have to ring the main house and ask to be let in which would entail yet another confrontation with the snobbish caretaker of Angels’ Refuge. Sam knew every minute detail of the strained relationship Dean had with Castiel because Dean had just spent the last two hours regaling him with stories of how they tortured one another. Sam had his own theories about where the relationship between the two men was headed but he valued his life so he had no intention of voicing them to his emotionally constipated brother.

“Nah, Sammy, I’m pretty sure he changed the code so I’ll just climb over the wall. It’ll set off the alarms and I’ll have to out run Samson and Delilah to get to the guest house but it’ll be worth it to cause him all the extra frustration,” Dean replied jovially as he closed the car door and made his way to the gate. “See ya soon if I don’t get eaten by the dogs!”

Dean punched in the security code that should open the gate and, as expected, nothing happened. He could try to figure out what it had been changed to but after three tries the alarm would go off and if Castiel was at his desk in the study then he already knew that there was one failed attempt to enter the code. It would be better to scale the wall and make a break for it. He was fairly certain that Castiel would never actually let Samson and Delilah attack but he didn’t want to be cornered by them and have to face Castiel as he called them off. He undoubtedly would expect an apology from him for using the Range Rover last night without asking permission and leaving the gas tank nearly empty. Making it safely back to the guest house would definitely annoy Castiel and it was just so much fun to annoy the stuffy, by-the-book former army intelligence officer. Being the bane of Castiel’s existence was an unexpected perk of the sweet gig he landed as the chief security consultant for Gabriel Milton, world famous author and notorious playboy. 

Dean knew the best place to climb up and over the wall since he had gone over every inch of the property with a fine tooth comb in the past month to prepare a report for his employer with his suggestions on how to update the security in and around the estate. The estate had a steady parade of the rich and famous passing through at all times. Everyone from the most recent pop music superstars, A-list actors, sports stars, heads of state, and royalty have graced the halls and bedrooms of Angels’ Refuge. It only made sense that the privacy and security of the owner and his guests would be an utmost priority. Up and over the wall he went, landing gracefully, he crouched low to the ground and did a quick sweep of his surroundings. He listened for sounds of the dogs approaching but he heard nothing. It was unexpectedly quiet. He rose swiftly and started running in the direction of the gardens, constantly on alert for a confrontation with Samson and Delilah. Remarkably he made it through the gardens, past the tennis courts, and arrived at the rear of the main house unscathed. 

He stopped briefly near the servants’ entrance to catch his breath before sprinting the final thirty or so yards to the guest house he has called home for the last five weeks. Hopefully he would continue to call Angels’ Refuge his home once Gabe finished evaluating his reports. Sammy had been extremely gracious to let him live with him once he was discharged from the army but after a while he felt like he was invading his privacy. He would have looked for a place of his own but everything about living on the island of Oahu was ridiculously expensive. He had some savings but he needed that for living expenses while he tried to gain a reputation as a top notch private investigator. At first when he listened to the voicemail that Gabriel had left him explaining the position he was offering and that he had come highly recommended from a friend of a friend he thought it was an elaborate joke that his friends Benny and Cole were playing on him. Everyday he thanked his lucky stars that his intuition had nudged him just enough to return the call.

He had some reservations about what it might be like to work for Gabriel Milton based upon what he knew of him from the tabloids but he told himself to keep an open mind. It turned out that Gabe, as he insisted he be called, was a pretty down to earth, likable guy. Dean found the opulence of his lifestyle intimidating at first but he assimilated quickly. For as easygoing and laid back as Gabe was, Castiel Novak, the man who was in charge of the property and handling various other aspects of the wealthy writer’s life, was the polar opposite. He lived his life based upon discipline and routine that he no doubt picked up during his tenure as an officer in the British army. Dean had no problem with that, what bothered him was that Castiel seemed to expect everyone to live just as rigidly. And although he has no proof, Dean believes that Castiel had taken Gabe thinking it necessary to hire a security consultant as insult of the highest order. Dean even questioned Gabe about his decision once he learned of Castiel’s credentials. Gabe explained that Castiel was too involved in the day to day affairs of so many other aspects of his business that he didn’t want to spread him too thin. It made sense to Dean but Castiel’s behavior suggested that he did not agree with Gabe’s assessment. Although the strange man could be frustrating at times and somehow knew how to push all of his buttons, Dean enjoyed the challenge of trying to coexist with Castiel. In fact, it didn’t take Dean very long to figure out how to get a rise out of the staid former soldier and he did so every chance he could.

The last leg of his journey to the guest house was as uneventful as the previous part. He worked up quite a sweat running in the afternoon heat and humidity. Beads of sweat were running down his forehead right into his eyes. The rivulet he felt flowing from his neck down the length of his spine could rival the best water torture methods. Unable to withstand the discomfort he removed his soggy T-shirt and toweled himself off with it. His already tight jeans were now plastered to him and all he could think about was peeling them off and hopping into a cool, refreshing shower. He unlocked the door and stepped inside. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall savoring the way the cool stone felt against his hot, sweat slick skin and let out a breathy almost moan.

A couple seconds later he heard the low growl of the dogs and the sound of someone clearing their throat. His eyes sprung open and out of habit he stood at attention. “Son of a bitch! Way to give a guy a heart attack.”

“If only it were that easy,” Castiel responded dryly from his seat on the sofa taking a sip from the rocks glass that was poised in his right hand. Grimacing, he added, “how can you drink this swill?”

“What the hell are you doing in my house?”

“Your house? Need I remind you that the entirety of this estate is the property of Gabriel Milton and you are merely an employee.” Castiel rebutted. 

“That doesn’t explain why you are sitting here in the living room of Gabe’s guest house which he is currently letting me occupy as part of my compensation. And why are you drinking my Scotch?”

“Please don’t refer to this rubbing alcohol with amber food coloring as Scotch. I was starting to get bored waiting for you to return so I decided to pour myself a drink. In retrospect it was one of the worst decisions I have made recently.” Castiel continued in a near monotone rumble, all the while his blue eyed stare fixed upon Dean.

Dean usually felt a bit uneasy under such scrutiny but he was feeling down right self conscious this time as he stood shirtless looking down upon Castiel from the entry way landing. He fumbled with the shirt in his hands in an attempt to maintain his composure. “That still doesn’t tell me why you are sitting here waiting for me to return. And can you please tell the doggies to chill out and let me pass. I just ran from the street all the way here in the blistering heat. I need something to drink before I pass out form heat exhaustion.”

Castiel snapped his fingers and the dogs left their post at the top of stairs and went to sit near Castiel. “That’s ridiculous, even if you took the longest route, which I’m certain you did not, the distance from the street to here is no more than one quarter of a mile. And since I can guarantee that you were sitting in an air conditioned vehicle prior to that your claim of being about to succumb to heat exhaustion is nothing more than you channeling your inner drama queen. But I digress. To answer your question my reasons for being here are several. First off, you owe me $55 for filling the tank of the Range Rover. You should be eternally thankful that Mr. Milton’s departing guests had arranged for a limo to take them to the airport or they would have been late since I had no idea that a stop at the gas station would be required. Second, I reiterate that although Mr. Milton has given you permission to use any of the vehicles he has here you still must clear it with me in advance since you would not know if any guests may have been promised use of the vehicle you intend to use. Third, I always make sure that all vehicles have at least half of a tank of gasoline. If you use the gas replace it.” 

Dean felt Castiel’s eyes boring into him as he descended the stairs and grabbed a cold beer from the fridge in the kitchenette situated next to the living room. He twisted off the cap, tilted his head back and let the ice cold liquid pour down his throat cooling him off from the inside out. Feeling instantly refreshed and a bit cheeky he stood at attention and saluted Castiel. “Yes sir.” He took another swig from the bottle never taking his eyes off his nemesis. “I have taken everything you said under advisement and will correct my shortcomings regarding vehicle usage from this moment forward sir. Is there anything else sir?” Dean knew that the way he addressed Castiel in a mocking military fashion always annoyed him.

Castiel appeared more flustered than annoyed as he cleared his throat once more and nearly sputtered as he spoke. “Yes, ah, there, um are a couple more things.” He stopped and swallowed audibly. Dean grabbed another beer from the fridge and offered it to Castiel who quickly accepted it and immediately chugged it. Dean noticed the way his lips encircled the top of the bottle and intently watched he subtle movements of his throat as Castiel drank. “Thank you that is much more refreshing in this heat than that stuff you refer to as Scotch. If you can behave yourself for the near future I will invite to the main house for a glass of real Scotch.”

“Uh, huh, yeah, that sounds awesome.” Dean found himself tongue tied and at a loss for words.

“I’m not sure awesome is the most appropriate term but whatever. To continue, can you please have your friends refrain from calling the main house looking for you. I am not your personal secretary. Everyone has a mobile phone and voice mail these days, there is absolutely no reason I should have to be relaying unseemly messages to you from your friends.” Castiel reached into his shirt pocket and extracted a folded piece of note paper. 

Castiel’s recent diatribe allowed Dean to return to his senses. “Yeah yeah ok, I’ll let ‘em know not to call the main house. What’s the message,” he asked anxiously. Maybe it was from Cole with a lead on a new client, he hoped. Cole managed the bar and restaurant of the local country club and always kept his ears open and was ready to refer Dean if someone seemed to need the services of a private investigator.

Castiel cleared his throat and took the posture of an actor about to deliver one of Shakespeare’s soliloquies rather than a random phone message. Holding the written message in front him he began, “And I quote…’can y’all tell my brutha Dean that I been shuttling a group of mighty fine swim suit models and their crew around the islands all week n as a thanks for my wonderful service me and a few friends have been invited to a wild party tonight at their hotel. I’m tellin’ ya brutha we can all get lucky tonight. Charge ya damn cell phone and reply to my messages. See ya later hopefully’ end quote.” Castiel walked over and handed the written transcript of the message to Dean with a rather indignant look on his face. “If you are planning on going to the aforementioned wild party tonight please arrange safe transportation as you will not be taking any of Mr. Milton’s vehicles out for a night of drinking and debauchery. And while I’m on the subject of debauchery, I want to address the situation of overnight guests. I would prefer that if you find yourself so inclined to partake of what is commonly referred to as a one night stand that such overnight guests are forbidden. Find a reasonably priced motel for such activities. I don’t want to compromise the privacy of any of Mr. Milton’s guests because you can’t control your libido. It is not unheard of for star struck fans or even worse, tabloid ‘journalists’ (yes he actually used air quotes) to resort to desperate measures to get close to the rich and famous. I’m sure a seasoned security professional such as yourself could not be so gullible but I must make the policy clear. Do you understand, Dean?” Castiel finished and stared down Dean waiting for a reply.

Dean had finished his first beer and was well into his second when Castiel completed his monologue. “Desperate measures?! What the hell do mean by that? Are you implying that someone would only want to spend the night with me to get a look at some lame movie star sunbathing nude on the beach or to see who some teenage pop star is banging on the down low or something?” Dean exclaimed indignantly.

Castiel huffed in that way that superior people do when they feel that they are addressing someone beneath their intellectual level.  
“Were you not hearing and comprehending the words I was saying?”

“Huh?”

“I was not denying your blatant sex appeal nor suggesting that you could not ‘get laid in whorehouse with a fist full of fifties’ (yes air quotes again because that is not a phrase that is in Castiel’s repertoire apparently) what I was saying is that discretion when it comes to such matters is best and if you can’t be discreet be somewhere else.” With that, Castiel knew he had definitely stayed longer and said more than he should have and was certain that Dean saw the hunger in his gaze as he surveyed him in all of his bare chested beauty. 

Dean’s mouth went dry as he listened to Castiel tell him in a very snooty and roundabout way that he found him sexy. He chugged the remainder of his second beer and finally found his voice, “point heard and taken loud and clear, sir. No overnight guests which have not met with your prior approval sir. Now, if it’s ok with you I’m going to peel these jeans off and take a nice, cool shower. You let yourself in so I’m sure you know the way out.” He winked at Castiel, walked across the living room, and opened the door to the bedroom. “Oh, one more thing, how long do I have to be a good boy before I get the invite to share a ‘real glass of Scotch’ with you, Sir?” He saluted and disappeared into the bedroom.


End file.
